


28 amherst way

by pinkwinwin



Series: Recoil [2]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Body Horror, Demons and Possessions, Graphic Description, Gun Violence, Horror, M/M, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Road Trips, Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-12-14 20:27:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21021770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkwinwin/pseuds/pinkwinwin
Summary: Ave Maria is just a prayer on the radio.





	28 amherst way

**Author's Note:**

> Here she is, my Spookfest fic! This falls under Demons and Possessions technically, but it's a very apocalyptic story to tell you the truth. It's part two of the Recoil series and follows Jaehyun five years after the events of the original story.
> 
> I'll link the song actually in the fic itself too, but if you needed a visual of the monsters in this fic [this](https://youtu.be/pbMwTqkKSps) is great music video for it. The song itself is the perfect tone for this story, as well.
> 
> As always, please enjoy and mind the tags!
> 
> #

** _October, year 2037_ **

  
People don’t come to this part of town.

  
  
It’s to be expected, it’s dirty and raw in a way that most would shield their eyes from. Parents turn their children into their sides, obscuring their view. Businessmen and the people who pour out of bars in the late hours between night and morning avert their gazes. Sicheng doesn’t blame them, how could he?

  
  
He wishes he had the luxury of turning away.   
  


But now things are different. It came with the darkness, it came with Them. Nobody has a name for the things, but he knows that they pick off people one by one. Holds them normal for just long enough to trick people around them, then they’re like puppets on strings long since abandoned. They droop and leak the blackness of _something _but by then it’s too late.

The government says not to worry. The church says to pray for salvation.

  
⇋

Sicheng dreams of many things now.

He has to, broadcasting has long since gone off the air and he smashed their television and DVD player when the tar started to leak through the spaces between buttons, tried to press up against the screen. Jaehyun watched him take a baseball bat to the devices over and over again, until they were nothing but a pile of jagged machinery parts and shards of metal. Pulls him inside when Sicheng kneels in the dirt and stares at the rubble in front of him. 

Jaehyun wraps the two of them up in sheets and limbs, replacing the horrors with comforts. If only for one night.

⇋  
  


They do what they can for any semblance of money.

  
  
It’s dirty and raw, the things Sicheng and Jaehyun are forced to do in order to stay alive. A shadowy man with too many connections to the government reminded them that it was a nuisance to have their politicians dripping with ink in their offices, so they flashed a handsome sum at the two of them to eliminate the problem.

It’s not a life of luxury by any means, but over time it’s worn away at the edges of Sicheng’s soul. He’s more jagged now, sharp edges cutting like glass. He used to look at the rosary peeking out from Jaehyun’s shirt as he stood over what was to be his job. He doesn’t anymore.

  
  
It used to hurt, taking lives. A part of him wishes it still did.

  
  
(It doesn’t).

  
⇋

There are no names for people like them, so Sicheng finds his own. He’s the prayer dripping from the lips of the men he has on their knees, cold metal of a pistol pressed to the back of their head. He’s the God they pray to, hoping for salvation in their lowest moments.

  
  
Somewhere in the parking structure, Sicheng hears water dripping. It must have rained recently, he thinks idly. The person at the end of his weapon trembles, calling out for some holy deity. When Sicheng doesn’t reply, the person looks up. The fluid leaks from their mouth, the ink soaking the floor in front of them like a puddle. From the teeth not yet coated in blackness, Sicheng can tell they have far too many. And yet, they smile at him, the prayers long since abandoned.

  
  
Sicheng clicks the safety off his gun. There is no God here, not tonight. 

⇋

Their work is difficult to hide— and for that, they pay for it.

Most people just shuffle away from their house, its falling fence and unkempt lawn a deterrent for the general public. People pull their coats closer, let their eyes fall to their feet, keep to themselves. Sicheng is thankful for that, sometimes a reputation is good. Sometimes it keeps you alive.

But still, there are faces that stare. Jaehyun looks between the blinds of their bedroom window and see bodies in the alleyway, staring up with eyes void of emotion. Seeming to look right at him. They’re human, at least on the outside. It isn’t until Sicheng ushers Jaehyun away from the window that the beings open their mouths, let the ink run down their face and their clothing.

  
  
Even still are the _true _beings, the things Sicheng doesn't have a name for. Sometimes they move down alleyways like static, a broken VCR tape shoved in some old television with their gaits awkward like a skipping scene. Mostly they move like tar and ink, filling every space they enter with a murky darkness. It is always oppressive, always unholy.

  
“What are they doing here?” he hears Jaehyun whisper. Sicheng looks out to the night sky in front of them. He tightens his grip on the windowsill, hears the old wood splintering beneath his hands.

  
  
“Don’t worry,” he replies. He hopes it sounds convincing.

  
  
(It doesn’t).

  
  


⇋

Jaehyun always did look best beneath the stars.

His hair is lightly ruffled in the breeze, chocolate locks obscuring most of his vision. Still, he must see the night sky above him because his face is angled to the stars and there’s a smile playing on his lips. Sicheng throws the last of the duffle bags into the back of the car, slamming the trunk shut behind it. He takes the chance to wrap his large hand around the back of Jaehyun’s neck until he looks at him.

“What’s on your mind, Starlight?” Sicheng asks, eyes crinkling when Jaehyun laughs.

“You haven’t called me that in years,” he replies, tilting his head to press their foreheads together. His eyes slide shut, lost in thought for a moment. “Sometimes I’m surprised I’m still here.”

  
  
Sicheng rubs his thumb over the nape of Jaehyun’s neck, taking in the scent of his cologne and the leather jacket around his shoulders. “Tell me what it was like,” he says quietly. Before me, he thinks. Doesn’t have to say it, Jaehyun knows.

Jaehyun pulls away just enough to really look at him, brow raised in a challenge. “I loved someone before you.”

  
  
“I know.” He does, he can only imagine what it was like back then, in a world much more desolate than this one. And Jaehyun’s shoulders sag just a little, takes his hands out of his pockets. Pulls Sicheng closer. 

“But that brought me to you.”

Jaehyun cups Sicheng’s jaw, pulls him in for a kiss. The ring against his skin feels like a comforting warmth.

  
⇋

Driving for hours on end makes everything seem surreal, Sicheng learns this. Jaehyun is asleep in the passenger seat, nodding off almost an hour ago to the gentle sounds of the radio and the hum of the engine. Sicheng wants to reach out and card a hand through his hair but he stops himself, instead keeping his hand on the wheel and staring straight ahead.

The California desert stretches on either side of him, the sky an inky black. Some old [song](https://youtu.be/pbMwTqkKSps) on the radio plays, voice dripping with sadness and something Sicheng can’t quite place. It fades off and it starts again.

Prayers in languages Sicheng doesn’t even understand, covering more religions Sicheng knew even existed. They echo in the space, voice monotonous. There is one Sicheng can make out over the rest of them, and it makes his grip on the steering wheel tighten. He’s thankful that Jaehyun isn’t awake so he doesn’t hear the words, so Sicheng can’t see the way his face falls.

Ave Maria is just a prayer on the radio.

⇋

Sicheng knows God doesn’t answer his prayers anymore but he answers Jaehyun’s, and maybe that’s why he’s still here. He sits across from him as the radio drones on in the background. The windows here are coated with the film of _something _that keeps all the nightmare out. It turns the sky orange and gray but at least there’s nothing black as ink that leaks through anymore.

Jaehyun twists the jewelry on his ring finger, dented and gold. Sicheng knows people get married in the eyes of the church or the government but when they both fail you, sometimes marriage is smashing into a display case owned by a man long since overtaken by sin.

Sicheng wonders sometimes if Jaehyun is holy. There’s something hollow about the Son of God sitting in a diner at three in the morning when he’s on the run. Sicheng reaches out, brings the hand to his lips. Kisses the ring.

Jaehyun always did bring salvation wherever he went. 

And salvation is needed, because there’s a scream erupting from a corner of the diner. They move on instinct, guns drawn from their waistband and aimed as they round the corner.

  
  
It’s never easy, seeing an infection up close. The man sits at the counter with his eyes rolled back, smile too wide, black ink dripping from his mouth and onto the speckled red and white counter in front of him. The substance is leaking out of his eyes like tears, and when Jaehyun and Sicheng get up close, the man’s neck turns at an unnatural angle to stare visionless at them. 

“_Fuck,_” Jaehyun swears under his breath. He makes a motion for the waitress to move back, and Sicheng moves to the side so patrons can run by him and out the door. They wait until everyone is out of the space before Jaehyun cocks the gun, steps behind the man.

“Are you sure?” Sicheng asks, eyes trained on Jaehyun’s face. He catches the momentary nod he gives before pulling the trigger. The splatter is never not nauseating but at this point all that’s left of the man is blackened tar in place of blood. He slumps forward with the clean shot, his body resting over the counter. 

⇋

They scrub their hands in the kitchen sink until they’re raw. Sicheng reaches out with a wet hand, wiping the black residue off of Jaehyun’s face. Jaehyun gives him a look of pain but leans into the touch anyway. He sees the rosary peek out from the neckline of Jaehyun’s shirt. Says a silent thank you of his own, even if he doesn’t believe.

The prayers sound tinny over the radio in the main dining area.

⇋

They have no choice but to leave, the two of them walking in a daze out of the diner. The address _28 Amherst Way _glows in dull orange neon behind them. Sicheng sees it for only a moment as he turns back to wrap his arm around Jaehyun’s shoulder. 

They sit in the car in silence as they drive. Both of them awake, staring straight ahead into the California desert as the break of dawn coats the sky. Sicheng reaches out, holds Jaehyun’s hand as his other one rests heavy on the steering wheel. Jaehyun’s ring sits warm against his skin as the sound in the car shifts from song to the same monotonous drone.

Ave Maria is just a prayer on the radio.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated ♡
> 
> [Fic Twitter](https://twitter.com/pinkwinwin)   
[Main Twitter](https://twitter.com/truantseeker)   
[Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/pinkwinwin)


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